An Innocent Kiss
by LyssaGranger
Summary: Ron and Hermione are up late one night, sitting in the darkness of the sleeping Burrow, when their feelings get the better of them.


Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Harry Potter, thank you for your time - that is all.

A/N: Well here's a nice little one-shot I thought of just before I was about to fall to sleep ... which was rather annoying seeing as I don't (for reasons unknown) keep a notepad beside my bed. It probably has something to do with the fact that I don't have any spare notebooks! But I am now going to go out and get one and leave it next to every bed or desk in every room! Because it's very annoying to have to crawl out from under the warm comforter and shuffle (quitely) for pen and paper. But I must admit, I'm very glad that I jotted this down one because I loved writing this. So I hope you enjoy reading it!

**An Innocent Kiss**

**One-Shot**

Silence rang out around the walls of the Burrow in the dead of night. The many occupants of the house were still sound asleep and with good reason, as midnight had come and gone long ago. The sun had yet to make its appearance in the thick black sky.

The Burrow creaked and sighed in the quiet, shifting beneath its own weight. The sound, though, went unnoticed as the Weasleys and their guests slept on. Although most were tucked away in their beds, not all had been intoxicated by sleep.

Deep in the heart of the Burrow, two of its occupants sat still and quiet on the only sofa in the home. From their spots, perched on the lumpy padding, two children were still awake.

The darkness of the night consumed them as their shallow breathing echoed throughout the room. Neither of the children had spoken a single word, though they'd been sitting up for hours, then.

The girl, whose hair was collected at the base of her neck in a small elastic band (though it looked ready to give up and snap under the mass of hair which threatened domination over the girl's head) shifted slightly.

The boy, whose freckles had softened as the sun sank, felt her movement and stiffened, unable to help himself, his back becoming a pillar.

They had been sitting still for far too long, their muscles screaming out in pain. The children, though, ignored their discomfort of their bodies, as silence clawed its way in once more.

Finally, though, the girl spoke up, breaking the quiet, voicing the one thought that had been running through both of their minds all night.

"He can't go alone," the girl whispered, still without any movement.

It was a long time before the boy beside her lifted his head from his arms, which he had been resting on his knees.

"What is he thinking?" he murmured before allowing his head to fall back into his arms again.

Had the two children sitting in front of the dead fire not been so worried about The Boy Who Lived, one of them surely would have noticed the close proximity between them. One of them would have noticed that they were alone, and that they still had a while longer before the sun came up. But as it was, their minds were on that night's most recent events and not on the way her upper arm kept brushing his whenever she took a particularly deep breath.

The house shifted again as the silence overwhelmed them once more. The two on the couch said nothing more and allowed their thoughts to linger in the air around them as they went, once more, into their own minds.

A creak from the stairs barely fazed the boy and girl, neither of them bothering to look up. He kept his face buried in his arms, and her eyes continued to bore holes into her hands which were clenched in her lap.

"He can't go alone," she repeated again. She couldn't get her mind around the idea of their friend out facing his destiny alone, while the two of them sat day after day around the Burrow with the rest of the house guests. She couldn't imagine allowing him to leave either of them behind. She had always thought they'd stay together and battle as one.

The boy only nodded, which she might not have caught had she not been watching him out of the corner of her eye. She whispered in a tight voice, "We wont let him, will we?" She sounded as though she needed his answer more than anything, as though, whatever he said, she would follow.

He didn't answer, though, because he knew that no matter which response he gave her, he'd be leading her to the dark unknown. If he told her yes, he knew he might be signing their lives away, and yet, deep down inside, he knew that if he said no he'd still be giving themselves away. Whether he responded or not, they both knew that they would never leave their friend alone to face it, no matter what he wanted.

"I can't believe he wants to leave us here. He can't really think he can do something like ... like _this_ on his own ..." She let her voice trail off, and he knew she was thinking about every horrible thing that could possibly happen to the three of them, to their families, to their friends.

They'd already witnessed so much death in the past years. They'd already witnessed so much sadness, so much pain, so much hurt. And as he watched her from the corner of his eye as she stared blankly into her hands, his heart twisted and tugged from beneath his chest, and his mind swarmed with the overwhelming need to protect. To protect _her_.

He sighed, and before he could think twice about what he was doing he turned in his spot to face her. She was startled by his sudden movement, and she tensed automatically. He let out a deep breath as she relaxed again.

She wasn't sure what he was doing,they had been sitting as still as possible since they had been told they weren't accompanying their friend on his lethal journey. Truthfully, he wasn't sure of what he was doing either, but he that knowledge was overridden by the overwhelming feeling he had to make this girl who sat stalk still beside him feel more at ease.

He paused for only a moment longer before leaning down towards her. Before he could stop himself, and before she could make heads or tails of his movement, he brushed his lips lightly over hers, pausing for a moment longer as he tasted her, breathing in her scent.

Their eyes both fluttered open, and they turned back to face the burnt-out fire in front of them, both their cheeks reddening furiously. She tugged at her hair, trying to pull a loose strand back behind her ear, and he watched his hands as his fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt. The darkness still surrounded them, though now they felt less alone.

The two children continued to sit on the lumpy couch, though not quit as still. The innocent kiss was sure to be buried away inside their minds by the time the sun rose, hidden behind reddened cheeks and nervous glances, never spoken about again.

But, although it was assumed that all the house had been asleep, one red-headed girl sat at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile spread across her features, a silent witness to it all.


End file.
